


Like Rain to Fire

by mangojuiceforever



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Love, Purebloods (Harry Potter), Romance, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:01:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24824242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mangojuiceforever/pseuds/mangojuiceforever
Summary: (Original Characters) Lena Wagner is a German pureblood, sorted into Slytherin. It's now her sixth year, she's antisocial, and prefers studying over making friends. But when a certain Gryffindor quidditch player, James Henstridge, catches her attention, she can't keep away from falling for him. Though during a tough break in their relationship, Durmstrang and Hogwarts have an exchange program, and in comes handsome Russian wizard, Dimitri Egorov.
Kudos: 1





	1. CHAPTER 1

**_Aged Eleven_ **

Two owls were in a gliding tangle in the sky, one brown as the wood of treebark, the other paler than the white of fresh snow. Both carried letters in their beaks, and were heading towards Lena Wagner's bedroom window in Wagner Manor.

Lena watched as they scraped the treetops of Black Forest, Germany.

There was a wizard town just by the entrance of the forest, one that was exclusive and very intolerant to muggle strangers. Those that wandered found themselves turned away by the magical shielding spells from the town's borders.

Descending slowly, the owls made their way to her. Lena pushed the window open and in came a gush of cool, summer wind. She watched the two owls enter her room and sit on her desk.

The two letters were written in English. Lena took both and read them one by one, carefully observing the wax seals of Hogwarts and Beauxbatons.

Lena's eyes grew wide. She jumped to her feet as the owls went flying off and out.

Lena had heard of the two schools from her parents. Her mother had graduated from Beauxbatons, and her father from Hogwarts. Both parents were fully German, with absolutely no trace of Britain in their ancestry. It was not uncommon for Beauxbatons to host foreign students since they were an international institution, but for Hogwarts, everyone either had lilting accents or lived in the UK.

Lena raced down the stairs and down the hallway, passing many expensive candelabras of gold and moving paintings before reaching the private parlor.

The room was decorated in green walls with golden vines painted over them, and hanging from the center of the ceiling was a large crystal chandelier. There were leather sofas set on the wooden floor panels of oak, as well as heirloom goblets on the fireplace mantle.

Her mother was on the piano, and her father read the newspaper on an armchair by the fireplace. Above the mantel was a large painting of the family of four, including Lena, her parents, and her older brother. The picture was stilled in an intimidating sort of way, their eyes focused on a point in front of them. Lena was at least eight when this was taken, still having a round face and thin, curious gray eyes.

Rosa Wagner was playing a piece that sounded familiar to Lena. She guessed Bach, and was right when she glanced at the music sheet.

"Papa," she said softly. "Mama?"

Her parents looked up at the same time with eyebrows raised. " _Ja_ , my dear? What is it?" Karl Wagner asked.

Lena held up the letters. "Owls sent me these."

Karl's smile was big at the sight of his alma mater. He walked to his daughter and stroked her blonde hair. "Well?" he asked. "Which are you going to?"

Rosa had stopped her playing to hug Lena from the back, trying to get a glimpse of her past institute.

"Beauxbatons or Hogwarts?" Rosa asked.

"Hogwarts, Mama," Lena said quickly.

Karl was overjoyed at her decision. "I hope you'll be in Gryffindor."

"Is that your house?"

"Yes," Karl said. "Yes it was."

"What if I don't get Gryffindor, Papa?" Lena asked, a little scared.

"It's alright. I might understand. Your mother _is_ a sly one, this one," Karl joked, winking at Rosa.

—

An heirloom.

The wand was not from Ollivander's as all the other students would usually get them from.

Lena Wagner was holding a family heirloom in her hands. Willow wood with a piece of a Basilisk's scale as its core, the wand was powerful. Engraved in gold on its handle were vines, curling over the slim wand and up to its tip. A combination of black and gold, this belonged to her great grandmother who used it to cure many magical diseases, and at the same time help fight in the muggle wars.

Being just a child, Lena did not know the extent of its power. What a Basilisk and its scales meant. At twelve inches, the balance was perfect, the weight and the grip to make flicks and flourishes feel smooth and easy.

The glossy black finish of the wood gave it a slight glimmer under the light. It reflected, too, catching the slimmest glimpse of Lena's angular face, sharp eyes and high cheekbones.

Her father had told her to be careful with the wand. He had said that not many people had a wand core as dark as hers. He wanted her to keep it to herself as much as she could.

—

" _SLYTHERIN_!"

The Sorting Hat was loud and blaring as it disclosed Lena's new house to the entire Great Hall. One of the four long tables erupted in a round of cheers and applauds. Lena guessed that they were her house now.

She hopped off the stool, passing by Professor McGonagall and towards the Slytherins.

She found a seat, and was immediately showered with handshakes, greetings and pats on the back. Also came questions and comments.

"You're Karl Wagner's daughter?"

"Wasn't your father a Gryffindor?"

"A German Girl..."

"Who's your mother?"

"Her mother is Beauxbatons alumni."

One of them caught her attention.

"Are you pureblood?"

She barely knew what that meant. Her father had mentioned it once or twice, but never explained it to her.

Their accents were posh and lilting. Some were a little different, sounding harsher than the first. It wasn't so indistinguishable to Lena's ears, though. But compared to her slight German accent, it was something to have to adapt to.

Again, the question was asked. "We know Karl is pure-blood. But who's you mum, Wagner?"

Lena was nervous because no one ever cared for her background. Here, she thought, things would be different. She would have to hold something back. Shield herself from this community that she did not know.

Growing up, she never had friends her age. They were all adults, as old as her parents. That was a small regret Karl had sighed to Lena one day last year. That she was not properly socialized with others.

But Lena did not think it should be a regret. She was well-mannered, back straight and hands off the table completely. Unlike the mass of rowdy Gryffindors in the other side of the room, who were already grabbing for food with their hands.

"Rosa Haller," Lena said without hesitation.

But at the sound of her mother's name, everyone silenced themselves. One third-year beside her pat her back with a shrug. "Oi," he said. "You're pureblood, mate."

Lena did not know how much trouble that would save her as a Slytherin in Hogwarts. Not yet.

But as she finally dared a graceful spoon of food into her mouth, the atmosphere between her house had changed. No one was teasing her anymore. No more questions. They suddenly just... respected her.

At that moment was when she realized that she might not fit in. Which was fine to her. She was here to study.


	2. CHAPTER 2

**_Aged Thirteen_ **

Lena Wagner grew cold.

Lena at Hogwarts was nothing like Lena at home. During holidays, she was happy to meet her family, enjoying the time she had with them and savoring all the parties her father threw in the manor.

Lena at Hogwarts, however, was much darker than that. She found that the best way to study and peruse her textbooks was when she was isolated and alone. The library was a great place for the silence she could never find. The courtyard had the best light.

Sometimes she wondered if maybe she should have been placed in Ravenclaw. Because of her interest in advanced knowledge, and her love for reviewing class notes.

Lena's grades were mostly the best in her year, especially Transfigurations and Potions. She was quick to learn hexes and jinxes in Defence Against the Dark Arts and became one of the most feared witches in her level within a month of her third year.

It was Transfiguarations class at the moment, and McGonagall was handing back papers from a quiz the day before, her wand swishing across the air, sending the papers to the students.

"I would like to acknowledge Miss Wagner for her excellence in this quiz. Ten points to Slytherin," the Professor said.

Lena gave a sincere nod. "Thank you, Professor."

"Of course, Miss Wagner."

Hogsmeade was no longer restricted to her year, and she was allowed to roam the village. But instead of enjoying a chat with friends over a butterbeer as her classmates all did, Lena headed to the little bookshop and searched for scripts or works on healing. She had this curiosity on how potions could heal magical illnesses and she had the urge to learn it immediately.

It was very useful during Herbology and Potions, apparently. She managed to impress Snape and was sent to Madam Pomfrey by Professor Sprout, with a piece of paper to explain the situation.

Lena did not feel sick, but she went anyway, holding a letter from Sprout to Pomfrey that she had not read. She passed the Great Hall, watching other students sit down for a meal, before reaching the Hospital Wing.

Lena had her hand over the brown door. It just felt appropriate to knock. So she did. There was no wrong in doing so.

A small "come in" was audible on the other side of the door, and Lena strode inside. The infirmary was just rows and rows of beds and partitions, and in the far end of the room was a work station for cures.

Madam Pomfrey was a middle-aged looking woman who wore red robes and a white apron over it. She was already scanning Lena for injuries but seemed confused to not find any.

Lena held up the letter from Sprout. "I was excused to come here. Professor Sprout says this is for you."

Madam Pomfrey read the letter easily. "Oh," she said, her eyes moving back and forth over the words, as though trying to confirm. "Pomona says that she finds potential in you," the matron said. "She's offered you a position here as my assistant. An apprentice."

She glanced at Lena. "If you're interested, of course."

Lena raised her eyebrows. "I'm only in my third year. Is that really allowed?"

"Well, Pomona has said so. I guess it is. So? Would you like to do it?"

Lena was calm, even with the exhilaration of the offer. "Yes," she said gently. "Yes, of course."

"Maybe we could start on Friday afternoon? That's when the clumsy Gryffindors have quidditch practice."

Lena nodded politely. "Wonderful."

—

**_Aged Fourteen_ **

Lena's fourth year was her most acknowledged. Before school started, her parents had been asked to meet with McGonagall and Snape. So with haste, Karl and Rosa agreed, inviting the two to the manor.

Here they were during the holiday, sitting on the sofa of the living room. Lena was facing the four from the fireplace armchair, listening to the exchange of words.

"Mr. and Mrs. Wagner," McGonagall spoke. "I would like to point out your daughter's intelligence in her academics. She's a bright young lady with a grand potential." McGonagall pulled out a thick scroll from her robes and presented it to Lena's parents. She unrolled it, pulling out one piece of paper and showing it to them. "This is a compilation of her marks from the previous year."

Karl and Rosa read them in unison. Going down the list, their faces became much surprised. Upon finishing, they glanced at Lena.

"Darling," Rosa said in German. "You're incredible." She smiled warmly. "I'm so proud of you."

Karl was standing. "It's never mattered to me how my daughter did in school. As long as she studied, it's fine. But this is... amazing," he said to Snape and McGonagall.

"She's also taken up apprenticeship with the healer," McGonagall said. She took another paper from the scroll. From where Lena was sitting, she could tell it was an essay, one of the assignments for Potions that she had to do a while ago.

"This is her work on the research of Sleeping Draughts," Snape drawled. "It includes many facts and corrections that are not stated in textbooks of her level. I would rarely say this, but Miss Wagner has impressed me."

Karl was skimming her essay. "Darling?" he asked Lena. "Where did you find the resources for this?"

"A book, Papa. Written by a man named Libatius Borage?" Lena said, unsure of the author's name. The book title she forgot altogether.

"That is the N.E.W.T. Potions textbook, Miss Wagner. When did you read it?" McGonagall asked.

"During free time," Lena said. "I found it in Hogsmeade's store. It seemed interesting."

"Mister Wagner," Snape said, cutting to the chase. "We would like to put your daughter in advanced placement of Potions and Transfigurations."

Rosa and Karl were silent, shocked from his words. Even Lena could keep herself from gaping.

"Do you mean letting her skip a year?" Karl asked.

"No," McGonagall said. "Only the two subjects. She will stay with her class, follow the same schedule. Only she will be doing different class work and tasks."

"But her O.W.L.s," Karl said. "She needs to study according to the syllabus."

"Mister Wagner, Lena could take the exams right now and manage to walk away with Outstanding marks," McGonagall said flatly.

"Well," Karl said, turning to Lena. "She's the student. Let her decide. Do you want to do it, Darling?"

Lena was considering. There was no mistake in taking it. There was also no mistake in _not_ taking it.

"No thanks, Papa," Lena said, finalizing her decision. "I think I want to learn with everyone else in my year."

—

**_Aged Fifteen_ **

Lena became an official healer at Hogwarts. She shared tasks with Madam Pomfrey, taking over when she had other matters to attend to.

There was now a circulating myth between the first and second years, that Lena was scary and that she could set your head on fire. Honestly, she could. But that was illegal so she kept it to herself.

Madam Pomfrey would usually heal the younger students because they would squirm under Lena's gray inquisitive eyes. But nonetheless, no one dared tease her. People cleared away from her during meals. Always, Lena pretended not to notice, turning to her books and meals instead. She didn't mind it, though. Preferred it this way.

Sometimes, she would get timid "Hello's" from Hufflepuffs, but those were quickly ignored.

Lena sat in the Slytherin common room sofa, a German novel in hand when a first-year boy came up to her. He had blond hair and a sharp face that was turned to Lena. "Wagner, right?"

Lena nodded.

"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy," the boy said as though his name was supposed to mean something. He held up a hand for her to shake. Baffled because no first year had ever done this to her, she took the hand.

"We purebloods need to stick together. Shouldn't let the mudbloods taint the wizarding world," the boy said too sternly.

Lena gaped.

Being German didn't only mean the horrid remembrance of the second world war of muggles. It also included the similar dictatorship of the Dark Lord just recently defeated about a decade ago.

Blankly, she shook the boy's hand, hoping he had no plans for genocide in his future.

The boy snickered and walked away, leaving Lena's mind turning at his words.


	3. CHAPTER 3

**_Aged Sixteen_ **

Lena Wagner stared at her O.W.L.s results as she was sitting on the surface of her kitchen counter at Wagner Manor, cooking herself a late lunch. Her parents had left four hours ago for a council meeting in the German Magic Council, speaking in court as witnesses to a wizard's crime or something of the sort. Lena wasn't too keen on politics and decided that it was best to not know.

She was alone at home then, save for the servants and house elves running around and cleaning things.

The pot of stew was beside her on the stove, the fire warming the already-hot summer air that circulated in the house. The wooden spoon was controlled by her wand that she swirled around in the air, motioning for the spoon's movements.

Lena held up her result paper and went through the grades again.

_Ancient Runes - O  
Astronomy - O  
Care of Magical Creatures - O  
Charms - O  
Defence Against the Dark Arts - O  
Herbology - O  
History of Magic - E  
Potions - O  
Transfigurations - O_

Quite satisfied. She scowled at her History of Magic. The little black E ruined the view. But perhaps, there were things she couldn't do. Like quidditch. Especially quidditch.

Merlin's beard, she hated quidditch. She didn't understand any of it, didn't enjoy it. Chess was better to watch.

Whenever there were quidditch tournaments, she spent her time in the infirmary, waiting for the injured to come flooding in. Lena felt that she was missing out on the wizarding world's most famous-and only-sport.

She thought of Gryffindor and their chain of victories in house cups and envied their abundance of motivation.

Her holidays were almost over, just a little more than a month before she would be returning to Hogwarts. Unlike everyone else, she traveled by portkey to Hogsmeade and walked her way from there. After having been accepted in Hogwarts, her family immediately bought a little house in Hogsmeade to accompany her during weekends when they missed her.

An owl whizzed past, dropping a letter in front of her. She caught it before it could fall into the food and saw the school's seal.

Opening it was the list of books required for her sixth year.

It was a trip to Diagon Alley, then.

Beside her, the stew was done. She turned off the fire and ladled it into a bowl on her lap, beginning to eat. With each spoonful that she took, she was starting to consider things in her life.

There had been some mail coming in from Lena's classmates. One was a kind greeting card from a Hufflepuff that she had worked with for a Charms project. Eloise Olsen. The kind-hearted muggle-born who had once tried to befriend Lena. She suddenly felt bad at the memory of her card and the small 'hello's she would usually give her. Was it time for her to really interact?

Should she just get a cat to socialize with instead?

As long as it wasn't an owl, she was alright with it. Her family had already owned six owls because mail came from everywhere to them.

Perhaps she should befriend both a cat _and_ Eloise?

Lena groaned and took another spoonful of stew. It was a waste of time to even _think_ of making friends. It was only two more years in Hogwarts anyway. No need to get emotionally bound to it.

Finishing her stew, Lena set it down on the counter and stood. There was a chimney in the kitchen so she only needed to take off the black apron she had on and straighten her white blouse.

There was a sack of coins in the mantel of the fireplace, and a chalice of Floo powder. She took the money and grabbed a handful of the powder before entering, stepping on soot and cinder.

" _Diagon Alley_!" Lena shouted, throwing the powder to the ground. She was immediately transferred to one of the shops. She stepped out and breathed in the humid London air, and immediately got to work.

-

Flourish and Blotts was filled with Hogwarts students.

They were all picking out books for their new year and chatting with classmates they ran into. Lena made a quick search of her required books and then went to the medical shelves. There were cures to concussions and treating bites from magical creatures. Lena took both titles, wanting to impress Pomfrey. There were also many compilations on quidditch injuries. Knowing that it was the leading cause of injuries in Hogwarts, Lena took that, too.

The bookstore suddenly became more crowded, and Lena could hear the snapping of cameras and the muttering of people. She came down from the second floor to see what was going on.

A blond man was sitting by a desk, signing books with a long line in front of him. Longer than the one at the cashier.

A banner over his head said "Gilderoy Lockhart". Oh. Just an author, Lena thought. Too fabulous for his own good...

Lena rolled her eyes and went straight to the register, meeting the cashier woman who was watching Lockhart closely.

"Who's he?" Lena asked.

"New Hogwarts professor, I think?" the woman said.

"How unfortunate," Lena said nonchalantly. She pulled out some coins and handed it to the woman. "Here."

But as she stepped out, there was a crashing behind her and a ginger man was over a blond one that seemed oddly familiar.

Malfoy. But older.

There was a brawl and the ginger man was trying to get an angle to hit.

Lena looked at the family of red-heads watching their father lose his temper. A pair of twins were excited, not seeming to care about Malfoy one bit, but the youngest was terrified out of his mind. The eldest Lena knew, because he was in her year. Percy.

He glanced up and caught her gaze. Lena cocked a brow at him and turned, leaving the mess of a place.

Lena sat on a bench outside, watching people pass by with the result of their shopping.

On the other side of the road was the Magical Menagerie, where a cat was watching her closely with much interest. It had thick gray fur that just made Lena walk towards it. She gave its cheek a light, gentle brush with a finger, and its slim angry eyes shut in utter pleasure.

It purred, tilting its chin for more, and Lena caught a glimpse of its feet and tail. They were dipped in black, the shade of dark shadow. But the left hind leg was an odd, snow white. The feline was tiny, almost as small as a kitten. It could easily fit in Lena's palms.

"How old is it?" Lena asked the shopkeeper who was behind a table, observing a white mouse.

She looked up from the mouse and pointed at the cat. "That one? A year at least. Fully grown now, but don't let her size fool you. She's sly. She can escape from her cage and has done it thrice now."

Lena smiled at the cat. "Rogue little one, are you? _Niedlich_. Cute." Lena scratched the back of its ears and it sank like butter against the cage bars. "Is it according to a type of breed?"

__"Oh, no," the shopkeeper said. "It's a mix."_ _

__"How much for her?"_ _

__Lena bought the cat, and it was small enough to fit in a bowl made of bamboo-weave with a matching lid. She held it with one arm, the other carrying her books._ _

__It was back to the manor now. Her parents would be home._ _


	4. CHAPTER 4

Lena's mother was wearing red robes. No matter how large and near shapeless they were, it still showed her bulging stomach that would soon be Lena's brother. Just another three months—Lena would be in Hogwarts by then. Perhaps she could reason with the school and take a weekend off.

Rosa hugged her daughter upon stepping off the living room fireplace. Well, as much as she could hug her. It was more of an awkward embrace.

"I heard O.W.L.s results come in today. How did you do?" Rosa took a second to realize a gray cat was circling her ankles. "And who's this?"

"Hagel," Lena said, naming the cat. Her head turned in answer, as though realizing it was what Lena was going to call her.

—

James Henstridge was lying in his bed, watching as the clouds floated by in the blue sky through his window. On his chest was _Advanced Potion Making_ , the book used for his new year at Hogwarts. He lived in London, which meant access to Diagon Alley was easy. Even after six times visiting the place, his family still gawked at what they thought was fictional.

It was the first time there for his younger brother, and it was quite obvious that the younger boy quickly became envious. James seemed to know why.

At fourteen years old, Chris Henstridge had never gotten eerie mail from owls, even though his brother did. Chris, though, hadn't hidden his jealousy well. He mocked James in such a childish way that made James lock himself in his room, away from Chris's jibes.

Here James was now, face turned to the glass in peace. He wanted to play quidditch. Wanted to do something to ordinary things. Make them fly, turn them to cauldrons...

But it wasn't allowed. Underaged magic, said the Ministry, his teachers, and literally everyone in the wizarding world.

What if he had never entered at all?

What if he had just went to a regular grammar school, come home to his family everyday and think of everyday things?

But he would never have been introduced to quidditch. He was the best chaser in his entire house, and won Gryffindor many points from matches. He was close to becoming captain, he knew it...

He swung his feet off the bed and walked to his desk. On it was an unopened letter that contained his O.W.L.s. His parents had wondered what they were when he sent them a letter about it, and his answer had been _Wizard GCSE_ , Mum.

He mentally prepared himself for the sight, lifted the paper and unfolded it. He winced.

_JAMES HENSTRIDGE HAS ACHIEVED:_

_Astronomy — A  
Care for Magical Creatures — E  
Charms — O  
Defence Against the Dark Arts — E  
Divination — T  
Herbology — A  
History of Magic — A  
Potions — O  
Transfigurations — E_

It wasn't _too_ bad, James thought. His Charms and Potions were more than what he expected. His Divination could go to hell. So could Trelawny...

He wondered how his friends did. He didn't want to know what Percy got. He took a pen and paper and began writing to Louis Hill, a muggle-born like him who lived not far from his neighborhood. He quickly added at the bottom:

_P.S. Just a thought, what if the royal children were wizards? How cool would that be?_

A rapping on his door marked the coming of his father—and possible interference in the conflict between James and Chris.

"James!" Henry Henstridge called. "James, come out of there at once! Your brother has something to say!"

"If it's how shitty I am, please don't let him in," James called back.

"Don't use that vile language of yours with me, James!" his mother yelled through the door.

James groaned and buried his face in his frustrated hands. Rubbing his brows, he pushed off his chair and swung open the door, almost making his mother trip over.

James had brown hair and blue eyes like his mother. His strong jaw and lean body matched his father's, and added with broad shoulders easily made him attractive to girls in the year below him. The girls of his age already knew of his disinterest and had stopped trying.

But his mother was glaring at him from her short height, needing to lift her chin to meet his eyes.

"What is it, Mum?" James said. He pointed at Christopher who was hiding behind his father's built figure. "If you _made_ that little midget apologize to me I will bury him alive until he means it."

"Oh come on, James, don't be daft. Come out here to the hall," his father pointed out sharply.

"Daft? I'm trying to get away from his immature face and you call that daft?"

"James," his mother said sternly. "We're teaching Chris some respect, alright? Let him have it."

"Do it quick, Chris," James said, leaning against the door hinge and crossing his tanned-from-quidditch arms over his chest.

"Sorry, _Imp_ ," Chris spat, and bolted down the stairs.

James shut the door immediately, not wanting another second of this nonsense. "Just saying," he muttered to himself against the door, "You're the Imp."

"I heard that, James," his mother snapped. She knocked on the door again. "James. Please."

James sighed, sinking to the wooden floorboards, back against the door. The ground creaked under his weight like a pixie squeaking under the crush of his foot—a minor incident back in his fourth year when he had accidentally stepped on one.

"James, Chris might not seem too keen on you being an _arse_..." Mary Henstridge had never been able to say the word normally. Sometimes she went around it completely. "But just know that your father and I are proud of you nonetheless. Come on out, Dear. And show us those magic GCSE marks that you've been talking about for centuries now."

James stayed silent for a second.

"James," his father sighed.

"Do you think I'm weird?" James said.

"Of course not, Dear," his mother replied.

"No, not you, Mum. Do you think I'm weird, Dad?" James asked sternly.

"No, James. Just special."

"That's what you would say to a mentally-ill child," James countered.

"But you aren't. You're a wizard."

"Wizards can be psychos," James said. "Be honest with me, Dad. Is this weird to you? A wand, a flying broom, an owl who's more efficient than British mail?"

"It's a shock to us all," Henry began to admit.

"You didn't answer the question," James asserted.

A pause. "Yes. Yes, James. I think it is weird."

James reached up to the lock on the door and turned the key, making it extra loud for his parents to hear.

He walked back to his potions book and found that he couldn't focus on anything. The ingredients and directions were a mess to him. He picked it up and flung it across the room with his chaser precision into the front of his dresser. It knocked over some muggle, non-moving pictures. Some were of him and his brother, others of him at vacation places. A vase shattered to the floor, spilling dandelions and water to the polished wood.

He just wanted to arrive at Hogwarts already, get lost in the buzzing of Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.

"James!" his mother yelled from outside, alarmed at the sound of breaking and thudding.

"I'm fine, Mum."

James needed some form of solace. He found his wand on the table and only observed it, since he couldn't use magic outside of school. Chestnut, unicorn's hair core, twelve and a half inches.

When buying his wand, Ollivander had said there would be conflict in him, like a civil war in his own mind. James guessed that it was true. Here he was now, standing in his room, glad to be a wizard but ashamed that his family didn't think it seemed right.

James saved his potions book before it needed replacing. Dabbed a piece of tissue onto a wet corner that had met the vase water.

What if he dropped out of Hogwarts and cut himself out of magic forever? Would that destroy his future as a professional chaser? A potions master, maybe?

He liked potions. But despised Snape. And God, did the Professor know that. No matter how well James did in class, there was this unsaid vendetta Snape had against Gryffindors. He ignored James' achievements but acknowledged the little mistakes.

But he found himself hungry for brewing.

He held his breath for the start of September.


End file.
